Sweet Bravery
by sweet-and-simple
Summary: It takes guts to do what Lambo did, especially when he did it to Reborn.


What he's about to do is so _unbelievable_, he can't believe he's going to do it. He's shaky about this, his fingers are trembling and his lips are quivering. _Yare, yare_… he is either going to be dead by the end of tonight or… most likely still dead. He doesn't see a different outcome.

He's waiting in Reborn's living room (Reborn had long since shoved a spare key in his mouth, nearly choking him on it, and told him to stop breaking his damn window), unable to figure out whether to chicken out or stay. He stands up and paces and then he sits down and fidgets. What is he _doing_?

Before he can give up on it, before he can sigh for the last time and begin a retreat to the door, it unlocks and opens.

Standing in the doorway is the most gorgeous man on earth; high cheekbones, a strong jaw, thin, but beautiful lips, a straight, proud nose, and , beneath the one button Armani suit, a _sexy_, _beautiful_ body with broad shoulders, hard earned abs, and a tapered waist. His hands are large and his fingers long and elegant. His eyes are as dark as his head of raven wing black spiky hair. There's a strand of hair curled against each cheek in its own strange and yet handsome manner.

The most gorgeous man on earth pauses with the door half way open, glaring at Lambo; but there's something in his eyes and face that's a little more than annoyance and ignorance: there's lust and need.

It was the look Lambo had wanted directed at him for _so _long.

His light vanilla skin glistens with the grape flavored body lotion he used, and there's a lot of skin revealed by the transparent white lace chiffon nightshirt he's wearing. His body is thin and lithe, a long torso with evenly proportioned arms and legs, a small waist and smaller, tight muscles. His sable black hair is wilder than usual, cast into a careless look by purposeful hands and then nervous fingers. His one bright emerald eye is wide with surprise, but also surrounded by thickened, black eyelashes.

He looks fresh, young, and more beautiful as no man _or_ woman has the right to. And Reborn knows it.

The hitman stalks forward, but the guardian retreats an equal amount of steps back. He's shaking all over and it's out of fear, not excitement. He's about to step out of their comfort zone, about to try and do something _no one_ has ever tried with Reborn again.

The man pauses at his retreat; his eyes narrow threateningly – he's not going to chase him down and that's what the boy is afraid of. This entire thing is based upon Reborn coming after him.

"_Yare, yare_…" His voice, baritone and husky, is just barely above a whisper. "please…?" Not at all certain if he's about to die of embarrassment or be smiled upon, he lifts a hand and… crooks a finger, asking to be followed in the same way Reborn often demands that he come.

He walks backwards, one slow step after another, heel to toe, down the hall towards the bedroom. For a long moment, all Reborn does is watch him with heated eyes, glinting from underneath the rim of his fedora. Then he toes off his black Italian loafers… and _follows_, shockingly enough.

Lambo is so surprised at his luck, he nearly trips over himself. Reborn doesn't follow _anyone_; he leads people where he wants them or brings them down where they are. This is completely new to Lambo!

Regardless, he regains his balance and continues the _slow_ and _careful _fall back. He sways his hips like a woman had showed him and makes sure that he strides lightly, making his movements fluid. .

His back hits the door to the bedroom and he reaches behind himself to open it. He meant for that to happen because it gives Reborn a small moment to come closer, close enough that Lambo is _almost_ within arm's reach – and then he steps through the doorway, eluding the hitman still.

Reborn's eyes spark. His one button jacket is thrown onto a chair by a writing desk, landing perfectly over the arm of it with practiced ease; his fedora lands on the jacket without tipping into the seat or onto the ground. The tie, he slips off and let's fall to the floor to be remembered later, his yellow vest he unbuttons at his own languid pace..

Now it's the guardian's turn to watch with hot, wanting eyes, not quite cornered, but not left with enough space to escape either. His cheeks are flushed bright red and his breath ghosts over his bottom lip until it's dry and he licks it moist. Reborn's eyes trail the movement, so Lambo does it again.

There's no time to realize he's captured until he's already up between the hitman and the wall, his legs wrapped instinctively around Reborn's waist when they're swept off of the ground. Lambo clamps his hands down on his shoulders and now gets to stare down at him, held so high against the wall. He drops his head and – instead of kissing Reborn's awaiting mouth – feathers his lips over the peak of the man's hairline.

He travels slowly towards his left temple, lips ghosting over pale skin; and then to his right temple, and then down the bridge of his nose; each kiss is as light and soft as the brush of a butterfly wing; it confuses Reborn (who doesn't like surprises, as obvious from his wearily narrowed glare), but Lambo doesn't stop. He trails across one high cheek bone and then the other; by now, the other's eyes have fallen to half mast, accepting the strange affections, but still watches Lambo closely. He presses a soft kiss to each eyelid and – while they're still closed – finally presses his lips gently to the hitman's.

Reborn meets his touch as gently as Lambo gives it, making the guardian relieved. This is what he wants; slow and gentle… just once, the first time in his life, just slow and gentle and no force. He doesn't want any snide remarks or demeaning acts. He just wants… this…

Reborn takes him away from the wall and collapses him kindly onto the bed. He begins taking his vest off again, but Lambo grasps his hands and pulls them away, sliding his palms down from his wrists to his elbows and then finally to his shoulders before trailing them down Reborn's chest to undo the last two buttons; he strokes the hitman's chest and then pushes the vest off of his shoulders. Reborn lets it slide off of his arms and then throws it to the side.

He can't help but smile, worshipping the chest before him as he is with his eye and hands and then – finally – his mouth; he begins at his jaw and then kisses down to his collarbone. He follows it to the opposite shoulder and then over each pec. Just like Reborn had always done with him, he licks each nub like a kitten with cream.

Reborn cups the base of his skull in one hand and watches him through hell burning eyes.

Lambo pushes – gently – at Reborn's torso, urging him silently to lie down. With that done, he continues his journey over each rib and ab and even sneaks his tongue into the small belly button. His hands, at that moment, move in to unbuckle and unzip Reborn's slacks: gone are the tremors he had felt and now he… he just knows what he has to do. He has to make this last for as long as possible.

He's half hard when Lambo reveals him; he licks the slit and then leaves sloppy, open mouth kisses down each side of it before daring to slip the head into his mouth. He bobs a few shallow times before hollowing his cheek and going down on him. Reborn says and does nothing in hindering or helping him, but he becomes hard like a steel rod covered in hot velvet in Lambo's mouth.

He releases him with a small 'pop' and sits back, smearing the pre-cum that's spreading over the head of Reborn's generous cock over what he can of it. Reborn begins to sit up, but Lambo stops him with a hand to his chest and a kiss to his lips. He shakes his head wordlessly before turning his back to Reborn and lifting himself onto his knees.

He had sputtered when he had spread himself earlier, but now he's happier for the earlier preparation. He turns his head so Reborn can watch as he licks and suckles his own fingers until they're thoroughly wet and then…

"_Aaaaahhh…_" It's a soft moan of pleasure as he arches his back, his head lolls on his shoulders; his one finger reaches deep into himself without any discomfort. He rubs a finger against one nipple, shivering.

A hand trails down his one thigh and he grasps it with his free hand, not pushing it away or pulling it closer, but asking that Reborn keep still. He brings the hand up to his lips and kisses each knuckle as he adds a second finger and – "_Oooooohhhh…"_ – scissors himself.

The third finger, he begins curling them and spreading them; _"Nnnnn… Reborn…_" He whispers the man's name: rolling it naturally off of the tongue, giving it a beautiful meaning instead of a foreboding sense. It means _lover_, it means _savior, _it means _please_, and it means _mine_. He feels so empty… he needs to be filled.

Reborn's sitting up, waiting for this exact moment. He had watched Lambo's every move and every expression and now he reaches out with both hands to turn Lambo around and drag him closer.

Lambo doesn't fight; from this point on, he doesn't care what Reborn does to him. For Reborn having let him go as far as he had… he's the happiest he ever remembers being. He smiles dazedly up at Reborn, revealing his blissful thoughts through the light in his eye and the glow of his cheeks.

He's laid down on the soft bed and Reborn grasps his hips; he guides his erection to Lambo's awaiting entrance and – slowly, gently, almost _lovingly_ – pushes into him.

"_Nnnnnuuuuuhhh… Reborn!_" Lambo's voice is still no more than a husky whisper; Reborn's name is still pertains to a whole new meaning on his lips. It feels so _good_ to be taken slowly instead of impaled all at once; it feels like the sweetest and most addicting torture.

He brings his hands up and wraps his arms around his shoulders; he ushers Reborn down and nuzzles his face into his neck.

Reborn sinks slowly into his body until Lambo sheaths him completely, and then he goes still, letting the guardian adjust. Tears slide down from an emerald eye from the gentleness of it. "_Reborn…" _

He begins to rock back and forth when Lambo twitches back onto him. Each thrust is strong, but not punishingly violent; deep, but not ripping him; he's slow and kind and it feels so amazing that Lambo wants to cum only minutes after first penetration. Regardless, he holds back, wanting to last as long as he can.

It's as Reborn is thrusting surely into him that the hitman reaches one hand between them and begins to unbutton the transparent white lace; he pushes the halves aside and bends himself to kiss and suck one hard bud. Lambo arches off of the bed, tangling his fingers into spiky black hair. His mouth opens wide, but no sound escapes him.

By the time Lambo can no longer contain his orgasm, Reborn had never once changed his tempo, but had changed their position, now sliding into the guardian from behind, one leg over Reborn's one thigh as they lie on their sides. Reborn's lips are kissing hot, wet trails over his neck and shoulders.

The tension in his belly snaps and his essence sputters over his belly and the white sheets of the bed. "_Reborn!_" His voice finally succeeds a whisper and rises into a scream. Their sweat is mingling, their bodies twining, and the words begin spilling. "_I love you!_"

Reborn cums in him, enamoured by how Lambo's body milks his. He places one last kiss on the back of Lambo's shoulder. "_I know._" He never admits to loving Lambo back.

It hurts him to know that Reborn most likely never will. But, then… Reborn must feel something for him, or else he would never had let Lambo do such a thing.

The thought soothes him enough that he smiles truly even as the tears trickle across his face. Reborn slips out of his body and rests back against the bed; he closes his eyes and his face hardens familiarly: it means that, when he opens his eyes, Lambo better be gone.

He dares to stay, even resting against Reborn's side. He's been lucky so far, so he may as well as well push it as far as he can. He's always wanted to do this… And, exceptionally, Reborn never exerts abusive force to make him leave like he usually does. He simply… does not acknowledge that Lambo's still there. But that's okay, because he knows that Reborn feels something for him which is better than what he thought before.

All it took… was some guts and a lot of tenderness… somehow, he knows this isn't a one time thing, and it eases him into beautiful dreams…


End file.
